


Deskwork

by LittleLinor



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Breathplay, D/s relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 23:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Daichi and Yamato "unwind" after work.





	Deskwork

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory disclaimer to Not Do This At Home, concussions are bad and not everyone can cast Diarahan

Yamato had been clearing the last papers off his desk when the door to his office opened.

“Why did I know I’d find you here,” Daichi sighed, an edge of fond teasing in his voice.

“I was packing up. How did the mission go?”

“Tedious but smooth. We ran late, as you can see.” He made his way to Yamato’s desk, sliding between it and Yamato’s chair. “Which is why I hoped  _you_  would have gone home already.”

“Why did you come here, then?” Yamato asked, pulling on his tie to bring him within range for a short kiss.

“Gut feeling. And I thought if you  _hadn’t_  gone home yet we could always go out.” He rolled his neck a little. “I could use some unwinding, that was way too long and tiring.”

Yamato raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not going to give me a report, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Daichi told him, sticking his tongue out. “Nothing of note happened, you can have the official one tomorrow like everyone else. I’m not doing it twice.”

“Fair enough,” Yamato answered with a slight smile. His fingers kept playing with Daichi’s tie as he kept his eyes on his face, evaluating his mood and general energy levels. The last couple of days had been tiring for him too, with too many people to deal with directly without Daichi’s presence to mediate and redirect when needed, and although he’d gotten better at interacting with people, it still drained him easily. Going out, in this state, would probably be tedious, though he’d still do it if Daichi insisted.

But if this was about “unwinding,” maybe Daichi wouldn’t be against other possibilities.

“Have I ever told you you look even more apetising in this uniform?” he murmured.

“Not in those exact words, but a couple of times, yeah.” Daichi winced a little, chuckling. “I don’t get why, though, I can’t pull it off the way you or Makoto do. On you it looks natural. I just look like I’m trying too hard.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” He pulled on the tie again, a bit more firmly but without jerking, so Daichi could move closer to him without stumbling. “No, stay standing,” he said when Daichi started lowering one of his knees. Daichi nodded and just bent forward, catching himself on one of Yamato’s armrests. “You look warm, competent and trustworthy. Which makes you infinitely more suited to your job than I am. Not everything is about authority.” He let his hands creep up Daichi’s tie and kissed him, a bit more insistently. “I’ll have you know I miss your skills sorely when you’re not around.”

Daichi blushed and laughed a little.

“Yeah, well, I’m back. You’ll have your buffer back tomorrow.”

“You know you’re worth more than that.”

“I know. But don’t pretend it’s not part of it. You look tired today, Chief Hotsuin.”

His hand had crept up all the way to his neck, and he slid a finger under his tie to pull him even closer and kiss him, deep and more forcefully. Daichi giggled against his lips, then moaned when Yamato’s tongue made its way between his.

“… I missed having  _you_ , too,” he finally admitted when he broke the kiss.

“I know,” Daichi beamed, and then he let out a little gasp as Yamato brought his fingers back to the knot of his tie and tightened it, restricting his breathing just a little.

Yamato kept his eyes on him. Slowly and deliberately, he pulled on the knot even more, watching him for any sign of rebuttal. Instead, after a few seconds of silent communication, Daichi closed his eyes and let his chin fall just a little in a discreet nod.

Yamato tugged on the knot, and Daichi let out a happy, shaky breath, leaning towards him even more.

Yamato used his chance to kiss him again, not releasing him until he was fully winded, the breathlessness of the kiss only enhanced by the tightening around his neck. Daichi gasped and panted under his hand, his open mouth still deliciously inviting and vulnerable, and Yamato couldn’t resist the urge to claim it again, keeping him captive until he was whimpering between short, hurried breaths.

Watching Daichi’s already darkening eyes open, Yamato felt his lips stretch into a smile of confident satisfaction. Daichi’s eyes, his breath against Yamato’s skin, were going straight to his heart, making it beat with power and affection and hunger, dilatating his lungs with purpose.

He nudged Daichi up, and stood as soon as he had room to, keeping his hold on Daichi’s tie firm. Daichi leaned back against the desk, and let Yamato press him into it as he sunk a hand into his hair to keep him in place for yet another kiss.

Yamato finally let go of his lips and just watched him, taking in the flush of his skin, the quick, irregular rhythm of his breath, his widened pupils barely showing from behind his eyelids, and the way his head kept tilting just a little backwards, as if it would free his throat from the pressure on it. They stayed pressed against each other in almost silence for a little while, until Daichi smiled and murmured between shaky breaths: “Aren’t you gonna tighten that more?”

“I would,” Yamato chuckled, unable to hold back his amusement, “but I’d rather not risk having to fix a collapsed throat. As tempting as it is to just strangle you fully with it,” he added with a smile.

Daichi moaned a little as his words, moving his neck forward just slightly, probably unconsciously. Yamato smiled (even though he wasn’t planning on it, knowing Daichi was so enthusiastic at the idea was a satisfying rush in itself), and wrapped his hand around the front of his neck instead.

“But don’t worry,” he almost purred, “I have other ways.”

And without warning, he slid a foot behind Daichi’s own, knocked them from under him, and slammed him down on the desk by the hand on his throat.

Daichi cried out, then yelped as his back and head collided with the hard wooden desk. His eyes watered, then blinked, and he whimpered when they finally focused on Yamato’s face, towering over him and moving closer as he half-climbed on the desk after him, keeping one leg on the ground between Daichi’s to lock them in place and bringing his other knee to Daichi’s side, leaning over him.

Daichi’s arms had spread out to try and catch his fall, and the resulting picture filled Yamato’s lungs with a potent, sharpening focus, spreading his awareness and running through his body from where it touched Daichi’s throat.

Against the underside of his hand, through the fabric of his shirt and jacket, he could feel Daichi’s discreet collar, and the reminder burned down his spine and made his breath a little short.

He brought his other hand to pull on Daichi’s ever-present scarf, firmly yanking it from his neck.

“One of these days,” he mused, “I should bind your hands first so I can tie this around your eyes no matter how much you struggle.”

Daichi whimpered, head falling back just slightly and hips curving up. Yamato smiled.

“I could tie them  _now_ ,” he said, bringing his second knee up to rest on the edge of the desk between Daichi’s legs so he could reach further up with his hands, “but I think it’ll be more fun this way.”

Moving the hand that was on his throat up just a little to catch the underside of his jaw and keep it firmly locked in place and tilted back, he used the other one to cover Daichi’s mouth and nose, cutting off his air.

Daichi’s eyes widened, and he gave a quiet, muffled keen in his throat, hands tightening into fists before relaxing. Yamato bent down to whisper into his ear.

“Remember your fingers.”

Not that he thought Daichi would forget their assorted safewords, but with him going further than their usual dynamic, he felt the reassurance wouldn’t hurt.

But Daichi didn’t try to make him stop, and just let out a small, vulnerable hum of acknowledgement.

“Good boy,” he whispered with a smile.

Daichi swallowed under his fingers, and he bent closer to observe his reactions.

Nothing happened, at first. Daichi’s eyes stayed focused on him, with occasional flitting to the side, as he kept waiting, breath still. Yamato felt his own breath speed up, forced it back under control. He didn’t want to make Daichi break faster than he had to; the slow waiting game was part of the fun, and he didn’t want to miss a single second of his falling apart.

And then, mildly at first, then increasingly strongly, Daichi’s throat started to move, swallowing to keep down the urge to breathe, to gag. He swallowed, and again, and after a few times air rushed up to crash between his barely opened lips and against Yamato’s hand. Yamato kept his grip on his chin firm, forcing his jaw shut, and watched his eyes, breathing in Daichi’s panic and letting his own excitement paint itself across his face.

By the time Daichi’s chest started jerking, one of his hands shot up to catch Yamato’s wrist, wrapping and tightening around it. But he still didn’t give him a stop signal, nor did he try to push him off; he just clung on to him instead as his body started jerking and struggling of its own accord.

Yamato let out a shaky breath, unable to keep down his own reactions. He wanted to have more hands, suddenly, to sink into his hair, to wrap around his throat and feel every gagging motion, to press down on his chest and keep him locked down. To hold down his wrists. Feel his pulse under his fingers. So many things to experience, and time and limbs so limited.

He tried to drink all of it, whispering Daichi’s name as Daichi jerked and gripped his wrist tight enough to hurt.

And then, when Daichi’s little noises started coming more quiet and high pitched and his eyes kept fluttering shut between heaves, he released his grip on his face and chin, cupped his cheek and the back of his head instead, and kissed him as he wheezed.

The kiss itself was awkward, with Daichi panting and coughing against his mouth, but there was something infinitely warm, powerful and arousing about the way Daichi frantically tried to get some air back through his kiss, the way his hands gradually came up to grip the front of Yamato’s uniform, clinging to him as Daichi sobbed a little and finally started kissing back, still panting into Yamato’s mouth.

He kept kissing him again and again, deep at first, then nibbling on his lips so he could gradually catch his breath, and kept going until Daichi’s chest moved slowly and calmly under him, Daichi’s whole body spent and pliable under his kisses.

A final deep one, and Daichi didn’t even try to reciprocate, just moaning into Yamato’s mouth as Yamato explored him, tasting the last sweet flavour of conquest.

He pulled away from his lips, and pressed a slow kiss to his forehead.

“Are you all right?”

“Mmmmm.”

Daichi’s hands pulled him a bit closer, and he slid his own arms under Daichi’s head and shoulders, cushioning them against the hardness of his desk.

Daichi laughed quietly.

“You worrying about this  _now_?” he asked, voice a little hoarse.

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“I didn’t say that~”

His smile was tired, but still warm, and Yamato found himself smiling in return, brushing hair out of his face.

“… did I overdo it?” he finally asked.

“Huh?”

“Pushing you down.”

“Oh. Oh no. No no no.” He gave Yamato a side smile, hands relaxing and brushing his chest a little. “That was great.” And he grinned, then, his playfulness returning. “I hadn’t seen that side of you in a while.”

Yamato raised an eyebrow. 

“I like it when you’re like this,” Daichi continued. “Imperious. Controlling. A bit violent.” He sighed, a dreamy and contented edge to his voice. “I think I fell in love all over again. Seeing you above me with that look on your face.”

Yamato had to refrain the urge to blush.

“I usually try to be more careful with the mood I set. I don’t want to fall back into bad habits.”

“I know.” He reached up, despite how tired he looked, and gave Yamato a quick kiss on the lips. “And I appreciate it. But I think we’ll be fine now.” He smiled, warmth that spread all the way to Yamato’s heart. “I could definitely feel your feelings back there. And I know you were listening to me. So we’ll be fine." 

Yamato nodded, and rubbed fingers into his scalp.

"Haaa, I missed this,” Daichi sighed in pleasure. “That was totally hot, you should slam me into things more often.”

“You’ll get a concussion,” Yamato chided him in his most deadpan tone.

“Fine, then, slam me into something padded or something.”

“Won’t that defeat the point? You seemed very into the impact back there.”

“Oh my goooood Yamato.” He paused, then huffed. “You’re being contrary on purpose, aren’t you?”

Yamato smirked.

“You ass,” he mumbled, not sounding convinced by his own words in the least.

“Can you walk at all? Or do I need to carry you?”

“Oh god no don’t carry me through HQ. I can walk, just give me a minute. And help me stand.”

“All right.” He climbed off the desk, then held one of his hands out for Daichi to catch and slid the other under his waist, pulling him up. Daichi staggered a little, but caught himself on him and stabilised. “Better?”

“Bit shaky but I’ll deal.”

“Here’s my proposition, then. Just focus on getting yourself to bed. I’ll order your favourite food, and after that we can either sleep or continue this in bed, depending on how you’re feeling.”

“That… sounds good to me,” Daichi said with a somewhat relieved side smile. “You owe me a date though.”

“You’ll get it. I promise.”

“Deal.” He took a few steps, then caught Yamato’s hand. “… help me walk home? You can order from there.”

“All right.”

He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and helped him walk out of the room, collecting his coat as they went, then locking the door.

“And by the way,” he whispered in his ear as they made their way down the corridor, “I missed it too.”


End file.
